Chapter 8

This may be difficult for some people to understand, because this phenomenon doesn't affect every human being.
But for many, there comes a time when there is a sudden, catastrophic, cathartic emotional release. For most people it involves religion. It has been called "a mountaintop event." That's based on the story of Moses, going up the mountain and finding a burning bush that changed his life forever. But it also happens in situations not involving religion. And that's what happened to Bob. Compare it to a balloon being filled with water. The rubber stretches and the balloon enlarges, growing bigger and bigger. If the water is stopped, an equilibrium exists. The balloon will just sit there forever, if nothing disturbs it.

But if you put too much water in it, the skin erupts and the ball of water inside falls. All pressure is released, and the water can resume its normal attempt to disperse.

The analogy stops there, though. The water balloon is destroyed by being overfilled. But a human mind has the capacity to expand almost limitlessly. And when one "skin" in the membrane breaks under the strain, there is usually another slightly larger one waiting to capture the essence of mind and spirit, so it can begin growing larger again. There are situations where that larger membrane isn't there. Those situations are called "insanity."

But Bob didn't go insane. Rather, his mind expanded such that he stopped fighting the truth. A calmness settled over him, and his anguish disappeared.

"I believe you are Égilin?" he said, looking down at the female elf who was, again, staring with fascination at his groin.

"Yes," she sighed. "But if you want to call me Tawny, that's fine."

He looked at the male.

"Doraphinnor Applegraft, Sir," said the young looking man, who was the only male elf Bob had ever seen without a beard of some kind. "At your service, Santa."

"Come in, before someone sees you," said Bob.

"I'm not sure we should," said Tawny, who had finally stopped staring at his dick and had noticed Melanie, sitting on the bed, holding a sheet up to cover her breasts. The elf looked back up at Bob and her face hardened. "Who is she?" she asked, her voice sharp.

"Tawny ... Melanie," he said, pointing his hand first at the elf and then at Melanie. "Melanie, Tawny is the statistician for the North Pole."

"Among other things," said Tawny, whose voice was still cold.

"Melanie is a soldier, like me," said Bob.

"Among other things," said Melanie, whose voice matched that of Tawny. Even Bob could tell that the two women were in the process of determining the status of the other, and what to do about it.

Tawny had the upper hand, though, because she already knew that humans existed. It took a full ten seconds, but then it hit Melanie that Tawny's ears were, in fact, sharply pointed and that these two intruders were, in fact ... elves!

"Holy shit!" gasped the woman. "You're a fucking elf!"

"I am not, at the moment ... fucking," said Tawny, her young girl voice emphasizing the vulgarity of the word. "You, on the other hand, apparently were." She stepped closer. "You're a fucker!" she said, her voice full of displeasure. She looked up at Bob. "She's a fucker! What are you doing with her?"

"We were fucking," said Bob, calmly. "Until you two showed up and interrupted us." He looked at Doraphinnor, who was standing, rooted, in the hallway. He was also staring at Melanie. Bob used his command voice. "I said come inside."

Tawny was already in, but she moved to let her companion enter the room. Bob closed the door. Then he looked for something to put on.

"It was all true?" Melanie's voice suddenly sounded very elf-like.

"Yeah," sighed Bob.

"We got your letter," said Tawny.

"The one addressed to Santa?" said Bob, amused.

"You weren't there to read it, so somebody else had to," she said. "We're here to pick you up and take you back where you belong."

"I figured that when I opened the door and saw you staring at my..." He didn't finish.

"Sorry," she said. "I've never seen one before."

"You must be younger than two hundred years," said Bob.

"One hundred thirty-eight, going on one hundred thirty-nine," said the elf, smiling brightly.

But wouldn't that make you one of Gwyneth's crèche mates?" he asked. "I thought they all got to see my ... um ... features, the last night I was there."

"I was on duty, doing the final analysis of the stats from your Christmas Eve deliveries," said Tawny.

"I don't feel so good," said Melanie. The fingers holding the sheet got limp enough that her breasts were suddenly exposed. Both elves stared at the woman. Melanie had a healthy set of knockers.

"You look fantastic," sighed Doraphinnor, who promptly covered his mouth with one hand, and his eyes with another. He turned around as well.

"Okay," said Bob. "I'll go with you."

"Good," said Tawny.

"What?!" yelped Melanie.

"He said he'd go with us," said Doraphinnor, still facing away from the naked woman on the bed.

"I heard what he said!" said Melanie. She got out of bed, exposing the rest of herself to the others in the room.

"What happened to you?" asked Tawny, curiously, staring at Melanie's groin.

"Nothing," said Melanie, who had regained control of herself. She was still weirded out, but she had the ablilty to adapt, improvise and overcome unexpected circumstances. "What do you mean?"

"You don't have any hair," said Tawny, stepping closer and peering at Melanie's shaved mons. The pussy lips that has been so lovingly gripping Bob's shaft only four minutes earlier were flushed and pink, but closed again.

"I shaved it off," said Melanie.

"How novel," said Tawny. "There for a minute I thought you might only be a little girl, maybe fifty or sixty."

"I'll have you know I'm only twenty-three years old, thank you very much!" growled Melanie.

"Oh," said Tawny, carelessly. "Well, then, I suppose you look quite normal."

"You can't go with them," said Melanie, ignoring Tawny and speaking to Bob.

"If I don't, things will keep going downhill," said Bob. "Nobody will believe me and I can't forget what happened."

"I believe you," said Melanie.

"Now," he said, wryly.

"Okay, now," she admitted. "But others will too, when they meet these two like I did. All we have to do is tie them up, or put them in a cage or something, and everybody will have to admit you were telling the truth."

"You know we can't do that, Melanie," he said. "And I haven't told the truth to anybody but you."

"Which is why everybody thinks you're losing it," argued Melanie.

"If I go with them, it won't matter what everybody thinks," said Bob.

"They'll think you went AWOL!" said Melanie.

"Will that really matter?" said Bob, heavily. "I have a feeling this tour is going to be longer than twenty years."

"That's quite true," said Tawny. She sounded very satisfied, for some reason.

"But I'll never see you again!" moaned Melanie. "And if I tell them what happened, they'll toss me in the loony bin!"

It was silent. Bob had no response to that. Eventually, Tawny spoke again. She spoke through teeth that were firmly clamped together.

"It is my duty to inform you that there is a provision in the clause that says the new Santa may bring one member of the opposite sex with him when he assumes his duties," she said.

There was another long silence. This time it was broken by Melanie.

"Me? No way. I like you, Bob. In fact, I like you a lot. But leaving this ... my family ... everything in the real world? I can't do that, Bob. I'm sorry, but I really can't do that."

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The Bob Claus

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